Siege of the Heart
by EvaT
Summary: On the eve of a marriage proposal Misao discovers that her father is alive.
1. chapter 1

His eyes snap open, breath fast and ragged. Ceiling, Kodachi, the gray beginnings of daylight seeping through the rice paper. He imagines he can still smell the burning of the Gatling gun from his dream, feel the heat of the body that shielded him. A splash of color in the corner of his eye. A small paper ball. His heart slows.

A deeper breath. Two more and his defenses are in place. Jaw set. Contained. Aioshi dresses quickly and leaves for the temple. It is getting easier to control.

...

Misao feels the light change, the warmth of sunlight spreading across her bedroll. She stretches like a cat, first toes, then ankles, legs, hips, back, shoulders, arms, neck. A deep breath and, up. She pulls herself out of the futon and slides her sleeping yukata off her shoulders, pulling on a light kimono over her ninja uniform. Okon may insist that she wear kimono now, but Misao ties the obi carefully so that she can shed the material in a heartbeat should she need better movement. She glances out her window to see Aoshi returning from the temple, she hurries toward the kitchen to prepare his morning tea.

...

Aoshi settles into his office chair. The light scent of paper and ink soothes him. He senses someone approaching the door. The corners of his mouth tilt towards a smile and then fade, the step drags slightly. It isn't Misao.

"Okina. Come in." Aoshi greets just before the old man can knock.

"Good morning Okashira."

Although it has been nearly two years since he resumed his role as leader, the title still grates at his ear, especially from Okina. Aoshi stares at the old man, waiting for him to continue.

"I think that it is time that we discussed the future of the Oniwabanshu." Okina says softly, shutting the door behind him. Aoshi straitens in his chair.

"As I've said, Okina, there will be no future for the Oniwabanshu. It will end with us. We shall recruit no new members. We shall make a home for those that are left and then we shall fade into this new era and let this new government do their job."

"There will always be an Oniwabanshu to protect the city whether you choose to let us fade or not. Others will step in as they did in your absence." Okina replies softly. "But, I did not come to have this argument this morning." Okina pulls three bound scrolls from his sleeve and sets them lightly upon the table.

Aoshi opens each one slowly and reads the contents carefully. He turns his eyes towards Okina, awaiting an explanation.

"The first offer comes from the northern ninja clan. Misao ran into them doing reconnaissance work for that smuggling ring last spring. The leader's brother took quite a shine to her…" Okina trails off.

"No." Aoshi tilts the scroll into the candle and watches it burn out on a small length of metal on the side of his desk.

"The second offer comes from the Omura family. They are fairly wealthy, merchants. They educate their daughters and their first born is a regular customer. He has been trying to get Misao's attention for over a year."

Aoshi sets the scroll net to his brush set and nods for Okina to continue.

"The third offer comes from Tsutomu, Saito's eldest son. Like his father he enjoys a reputation for exceptional sword skills and a firm sense of justice. Unlike his father, he is well liked among his fellow police officers and throughout the city. He is also quite handsome… "

Aoshi pauses, holding the scroll over the candle.

"Of course, his father only grudgingly supports his courtship of Misao ever since Tsutomu was injured protecting Misao during the joint police action we assisted with last October." Okina continues.

Aoshi turns his hand, setting the scroll next to his set of brushes.

"Okina, have you spoken to Misao about these marriage proposals?" Aoshi asks.

"Oh, I would not presume to supplant the Okashira for that discussion." Okina's smile curls under his mustache as he turns and steps quickly out the door.

...

Aoshi hears her coming down the hall, her footsteps lighter than they used to be, the tea tray rattling slightly. He takes a deep breath before she steps to the door.

"Come in Misao."

She enters, setting the tray down, and begins to prepare the tea. Her fingers move deftly with the small whisk and she smiles softly at the pleasure of sharing this moment with Aoshi. Aoshi nods for her to sit and she pours two steaming cups of green tea. Aoshi sips the tea lightly, enjoying the feel of the warm liquid. His throat feels thick. He pulls the two scrolls to the center of his desk.

"Misao. It is time we discussed your future."

Her heart leaps. She nearly drops her teacup as she desperately tries to contain the rising sense of giddiness. Finally, finally he will ask her. She bites the inside of her bottom lip to remain poised.

"You're of an age now where marriage is a consideration. Do you wish to marry Misao?"

"Yes." She says breathlessly,unable to contain the smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. Aoshi regards her carefully, with a slow blink.

"Very well. Okina has brought two offers of marriage that we should discuss."

Aoshi pushes the two scrolls toward Misao. A sense of dread trickles down Misao's spine. Suddenly her throat feels dry and raspy. She slowly takes another sip of tea before unrolling and reading through both scrolls. She ruthlessly presses back the burning feeling behind her eyes. She will not cry in front of him. She takes another slow slip of her tea, feeling the heat of the cup through her lips, forcing herself to breath slowly, to stay in control.

"I will consider these." Surprised that her voice sounds steady, Misao gives a quick bow, and ducks out of the room, leaving the tea tray.

In the hallway she breaths deeply through her nose, resisting the urge to run down the hall. Her feet bring her to her room and she shuts the shoji softly before collapsing, biting her fist to contain the sobs. Her body shakes softly and the hot tears stream down her face.

In his office, Aoshi looks at the abandoned tea cup and slightly crumpled scrolls. He feels the tremble in his hands as he rolls the scrolls closed. He takes a breath to steady himself and forces the scalding green tea down his throat.

...

Long after everyone else has gone to bed, Misao presses together rice balls in the dark quiet of the empty kitchen. She hadn't come down to dinner that night. She stops as she hears the creak of the saki cabinet.

"Okina, you might as well come out. I know you're there." Misao says softly.

"Ah. Just a nip to aid sleep." Okina grins sheepishly and starts toward the door.

"Okina, you knew my parents before I was born, right?" Misao asks. He pauses and turns back toward the kitchen, setting out a saki cup and sitting by the counter.

"Why do you ask Misao?"

"Was my mother… happy when she married?"

"That is an impossible question to answer…" Misao's face falls.

"Okina, you must have had some impression… if she loved…"

"You misunderstand me Misao. You see, she was never married."

"What?" Misao chokes and sputters, spitting part of the rice ball she had been eating. "But… my father…"

"Was the Okashira and your mother oniwabanshu." Okina finishes with a short nod. "Oniwabanshu don't marry Misao."

"But… but… to have a child…" Okina shifts on his seat uncomfortably.

Okina reaches out his hand toward Misao.

"It is the duty of the okashira to raise any child resulting from a mission."

Misao draws back, the meaning of his words becoming clear.

"But then… my father… who is my father?" Misao whispers. Okina's eyes go dark.

"You shouldn't ask that Misao."

A wave of nausea washes over Misao. She shuts her eyes tightly, pulling forth those hazy memories she has held of her parents. Was it a lie? They had been a family, hadn't they? But no, she sees the pity and compassion in Okina's eyes. A mistake then, a burden, an obligation. She isn't truly the daughter of the former okashira.

"So you see Misao, he can't marry you, he has responsibilities to carry if…"

"Is he alive? Do I know him. Have I met my real father?"

Okina hesitates and Misao knows. He is one told her. She doesn't wait for further answer. Without a word to Okina she slides out the back door, taking her cloak from the hook.

"Who?" She whispers into the night.

...

The next morning Aoshi hears a strange step outside his office. He tenses, hand gripping a kodachi until he recognizes Okon's perfume.

She enters his office and sets out the tea tray.

"Where is Misao?" Aoshi asks, his voice even.

"She left last night. Should we retrieve her?"

Aoshi feels Okon's eyes on him for a reaction. He forces himself to be still and take a slow sip of tea.

"Give her some space for now. Send out a bird to keep eyes on her. Inform me when she is sighted." With a nod he dismisses Okon.


	2. Chapter 2

For three weeks there is no sign of Misao. Aoshi crumples the latest scroll in his fist, turning a sharp glare on Okina.

"No sign, or are our own agents unwilling to reveal her?" Aoshi's voice is cool, simmering anger just under the surface.

"Misao has gone to great lengths to protect the city and I would not be surprised if the city embraces her… even against the wishes of the Okashira." Okina's face stills into a neutral mask, a hint of amusement just around the eyes.

"It goes beyond that. Misao has made her own networks enmeshing our agents with the new government and police." Aoshi states flatly.

"How unfortunate that the oniwabanshu won't fade quite as quickly as you hoped." Okina replies dryly.

…

Outside the city, Misao slowly approaches an isolated cottage, smoke rising softly from the kiln in the back. She moves silently to approach the large man, hunched over a collection of unfired bowels.

"So what kind of trouble has my idiot apprentice gotten into this time?" Hiko turns toward her, rubbing clay from his hands on an frayed piece of cloth.

"Uh… none that I know of." Misao's throat feels tight, all the things she thought she would say, rehearsed in her mind, fly from her.

"Ah." Hiko stands, walking past her an into the small cottage.

Approaching the door, Misao watches him pull out a jug of sake and and cup. He pours a cup, sitting slowly at the rough hewn table. She scans him top to toe, looking to find herself in those features. Surely it isn't possible, even seated he is so very large.

"So it's true. You're Mishi's child then." Hiko drains his cup, pouring another. A bead of sake hovers and tips over the edge of the jug, running down the side and soaking into the wood of the table.

"Am I yours?" Misao asks softly.

Hiko's lips crack into a half smile."Likely."

He drains his cup, pouring another. Misao feels the tears burning in the back of her eyes.

"You knew?" She swallows hard, biting her cheek to hold back the tears.

"A child, yes. You, I suspected, when we first met in Kyoto." He sips from his cup.

"You didn't say anything." Misao accuses. She feels her muscles tense and tremble.

"You had your family there. I would not interfere."

"But…why? When my mother died… you never came."Misao sits heavily at the table, the warm, stifling air covering her neck. She lowers her head, unable to look at Hiko.

"They would not have given you to me Misao. You, and your mother, would only come at a price."

"And we weren't worth anything to you." Rage surges through her. Her hand shoots to the kunai at her sleeve, but a large hand clamps her wrist to the table before she can release it. Large hands lift her from her chair, pinning her wrists in the air. She kicks out, but his arm is already there. Hiko's face flushes; his teeth grit together.

"You would have me kill my own son to have you?" He drops Misao back into her chair. He scans her pale face, her eyes so large, so like her mother's. The same.

"Mishi came to me pretending to need protection from the violence in the city. I'll be damned, I was so lonely that I let her, loved her even. When she was with child it became clear what the price of her love would be." Hiko pours another cup of sake. Liquid sloshes over the sides of the cup.

"Kill the Battousai or never see her or my child again." The table creaks under the strength of his grip. Misao's breath leaves leaves her in a soft wheeze.

"It was an impossible choice and I'll be damned, I considered it." Hiko's shoulders sag, and suddenly he seems somehow smaller than before. He pours another cup of sake. "So, whatever they sent you here to ask me to do, I refuse." Spilled sake soaks into the table, turning splashes of the wood dark.

"They don't know that I'm here." Misao whispers.

"Then what do you want?"

"I… I'm not sure." Misao stutters. Hiko's eyes narrow. "For now, I would like to stay here a while."

Hiko freezes. The exact words she used, a chill snakes up his spine. He turns to the door of the cottage. "Fine. I'll be damned." He says over his shoulder as storms out the door.

…


	3. Chapter 3

Misao wakes alone, the soft smell of smoke filtering in through the window. Hiko must be at the kiln already. She folds the thin pallet that she borrowed the night before. A strand of red hair catches the light of the morning sun.

A small plate of cold rice and pickled vegetables waits for her on the table. She eats slowly, listening to the bird calls and soft sounds of the morning. She scrubs her dishes and those left in the bucket, dries them with a length of rough cloth, and dumps the dirty water. Lifting the bucket, she sets out for the river to refill it.

Around the side of the house Hiko bends over a short table, a lump of brown clay in his hands. He shapes and pulls the clay, graceful and light. She examines her own hands. Aoshi had called them graceful once. It had been a brief complement during training, but her cheeks had burned. She had always imagined that she had her mother's hands, but no, they are his.

Moving toward the sounds of the river Misao takes in the land surrounding the cottage. It is both isolated and easily defended, high ground with clear land that extends past arrow range to the forest. It would be near impossible to travel through the short grasses without making noise. If Aoshi comes, they will hear him.

Misao pushes her shoulders back, moving faster toward the river. Shallow at the banks, the river could be deadly in the middle, tiny white breakers along the rocks revealing the speed of the underlying current. She pulls off her shoes, letting the cold water seep to her ankles. She fills the bucket, careful not to let silt slide into the bottom. The water is clear and icy to the point of pain. Setting the bucket on the bank, she walks along the edge taking in the features. Just north of the bend, a small pool appears. Protected from the main current, it should be suitable for bathing and washing clothes. Misao returns to the cottage.

Hiko continues to work the clay. She sits by him watching. Without a word, he hands her a small piece of clay. Hiko shapes a set of cups, each balanced, delicate, with even edges. Misao's cup comes out bottom heavy and a little lumpy, but Hiko sets it in the kiln with the others.

...

Sharing the cottage, Misao and Hiko fall into a routine. They don't speak much. Misao draws water, cleans dishes, does the laundry. Hiko cooks. Mornings they work at the kiln. In the afternoons Hiko disappears into the forest until it is time for dinner.

This afternoon Misao adjusts her training clothes to practice in the near woods. She breaths deep into her kata, feels her place in the forest and for a moment feels perfectly content. As she turns to block an imaginary foe, she feels Hiko watching her, just out of sight. She continues her routine, stretching out her senses to pinpoint where he might be. He's there, but he seems to surround her; she can't determine his position. She leaps off a tree trunk the instant before a katana flies at her, the sword stopping a centimeter before embedding in the tree. She turns with a kunai in her hand, sucking in a quick breath.

"Your reaction time needs work." Hiko says dryly.

Heart pounding, Misao nods, eying him warily.

"I already have a successor. I do not intend to pass on the Hiten Mitsurgi again."

"I have no desire to learn it." Misao returns a hard gaze.

The corner of Hiko's mouth tilts up slightly.

"You favor your left leg. It is stronger. Balance yourself to be less predictable." Hiko turns and leaves the woods.

...

The next day, Hiko spreads a length of rough cloth across the cottage table. He sets out a collection of small pots and thin brushes. Misao sits across from him at the table, pulling her knees to her chest to watch him paint.

He lines up the set of cups, Misao's lumpy cup the last in the line. He turns the tiny cups in his large hands, carefully brushing black pigment in curving lines. He selects a new brush, pale green leaves sprout from the lines following his brush. Misao smiles, remembering a slight of hand trick Hannya once showed her as a child where pebbles and sticks would magically appear in his hands, on her shoulder, in her hair. The leaves seem to appear upon the cups the same way as if Hiko weren't really painting them, but uncovering leaves that were already there.

Hiko picks up the second to last cup, nudging the lumpy cup toward Misao.

"Oh. I couldn't make that pattern. I'll ruin the set." Misao nudged the cup back toward him.

"That cup isn't for this set." Hiko replies.

"But…" Misao counts again to make sure, but there are definitely only five others.

Hiko stands, and rummages softly in a chest at the back of the cabin. He carefully removes a square of cloth from another cup. Clearly crooked, the cup is decorated with pale green leaves, dripping slightly toward the bottom of the cup.

"Kenshin made that one." Hiko nudges the blank lumpy cup back toward Misao and returns to his painting.

Choosing a thin brush, Misao selects an ice blue pigment. She pulls the brush around the sides of the lumpy cup, uncovering the mountains underneath.

...

As the glare of midday fades into softer afternoon light, Hiko follows Misao to the woods. He watches, a brief comment, a suggestion, a quick spar that lasts only a few hits as has become their custom. Misao flexes her wrists. She feels stronger, faster. She can feel the subtle changes that have built from these sessions.

"Arg!"Pain shoots up Misao's back as she staggers into the rough bark of a tree.

"I expected you to sense that coming" comes Hiko's dry voice. "If I hadn't used the flat edge, you would be fatally wounded."

"I thought we had finished for the day." Misao grits out between her teeth, sucking in slow breaths. Hiko raises one dark eyebrow and turns back toward the cottage.

Misao shuffles slowly after him, feeling the throbbing pain spread across her back. When she reaches the cottage she sees that he has placed a steaming bowl and some cloth pads near her pallet. Pungent herbs float in the hot water. She gingerly lays on her stomach. She feels the bruise spreading. She pulls her training gi up to reveal her lower back. The soaked cloth is almost painfully hot, but Hiko's hands are gentle and the pain starts to fade.

"The last time I had to make this, was when Kenshin fell for the same maneuver. Kenshin cried."

"Cried?" Misao turns her head in shock.

"He was seven. He didn't make that mistake again. Your training has been sorely neglected."

Misao's shoulders slump. The world shifts a little under her. Of course she wouldn't expect to be at Kenshin's level, but she had thought her skills somewhat more advanced than a seven year old. A rush of air cools her skin as Hiko removes the cloth pad. He re-soaks it in the steaming liquid.

"Are you ready to start serious training?" Hiko asks softly.

"But I thought…"

"Not Hiten Mitsurugi… I think your mother's style would suit you better."

The heat of the refreshed cloth sears across her back. Misao jerks her head in a tight nod.

"Yes. I'm ready."

...

Aoshi storms through the doors of the Aioya , the anger emanating from him palpable. Okina follows him to his office without a word.

"Three months." Aoshi's voice is icy, an edge just outside of his usual calm. "No reported sightings. Nothing from the city, from the Oniwabanshu, or police searches. Our contacts in Edo report that she is not there. The northern ninja clan swears on the alliance that she isn't there and our agents have found nothing to contradict that assurance. Report."

"Ah…well, not much really." Okina sighs. "Saito's boy has taken a leave of absence from the police to search personally…" Aoshi waves his hand impatiently.

"And we've received a letter from the Kamiya dojo. She's not there, but you knew that. You can read the letter from Himura if you would like." Okina slides the letter across the desk. Aoshi scans the lines quickly. He pauses toward the end.

"Why would Himura suggest asking help from Hiko in this matter?" Okina shifts slightly. Aoshi's eyes narrow.

"Tell me." Aoshi's voice is deadly soft.

…


	4. Chapter 4

Misao stretches out across the smooth boulder at the edge of the creek. The cold running water feels good against her bruised elbow. She got a good hit on Hiko, but even so, he was solid and the back of her elbow red, soon to turn the sickly green of a new bruise. As she dries her arm on her shirt, the hairs on her neck prickle. Someone is there. The woods around her have gone silent. Controlling her response, she sits casually, bunching her legs underneath her, preparing to spring. Her fingers wrap around a kunai, cool and smooth in her hand. She spots a solid branch in her range. There, to her left, just emerging from the woods.

She is in motion, twisting toward the branch, the kunai released before she registers the presence, the icy feel of him at once familiar and strange in this place. Aoshi dodges the kunai, but he isn't quite fast enough, it scrapes along his bicep as he turns, just a scratch, but it is enough. He sees Misao crouched along the branch, takes a step before he feels his body thick and numb. Shit. He presses slightly to his right to make sure he doesn't fall in the water. He doesn't try to move, with his full force of will he forces his eyes to stay open, watches the expressions cross Misao's face: horror, confusion, anger, pain… but his eyes are too heavy and the light goes dark.

Misao steps toward him cautiously, pressing her senses into the woods to scan for other Oniwabanshu. Did he come alone? He must have, or the Oniwabanshu would have sprung forward to protect their leader. She nudges him gently with her foot. Wouldn't put it past him to fake a hit to catch her unaware, but then, he wouldn't know that she had started poisoning her kunai. Misao pulls a tin of grayish paste from her belt. Gently she takes his arm, spreading a glob of paste across the wound to neutralize the poison.

He is warm. The warmth of his body tingles in her fingers. She takes another glob of paste, but hesitates, fingers hovering near his lips. How often has she dreamed of tracing those soft, thin lips. Shaking herself slightly, she gently pulls back his bottom lip, spreading the paste on inner part of his lip where it will be quickly absorbed. His mouth is hot and slick. Misao's cheeks heat at the intimacy.

She looks at him slumped along the slope of the creek. Never has she seen him so vulnerable. If feels wrong, embarrassing. She could kill him. Her fingers brush a strand of hair from his eyes. Lightly she traces his jaw. Misao shivers. Never has she been so close. A sick feeling rises in her stomach as she remembers why he is here: to marry her off, to pretend that she actually belongs to the Oniwabanshu. A failed mission, that's all she is. Tears burn in the back of her eyes and she sucks in a fast breath.

"Go back Aoshi." she whispers, and leaves him in the woods.

...

Hiko says nothing as Misao walks in the cottage door. He places the bowels of soup for dinner and sits in Misao's seat, with his back toward the cottage door. Misao hesitates before taking Hiko's usual seat.

"Do you wish to speak to him when he comes?" The casual tone doesn't fool Misao.

"I don't know."

Hiko nods and they eat in silence.

It is full dark when Misao again feels the hairs on her neck prickle. Without a word, Hiko takes a jug of sake and steps out the door closing it firmly behind him.

…

Hiko sits just outside the ring of light that spills from the cottage window. Pouring two small cups of sake, he waits as the lean figure approaches from the woods.

Aoshi sits carefully in front of Hiko, his weapons in reach. Hiko pushes a sake cup closer. Aoshi ignores it.

"I would like to speak with Misao."

"Why?"

"She is Oniwabanshu."

"Oh. Have you initiated her then?" Hiko raises one eyebrow slowly. Aohsi presses his lips in a thin line.

"I thought not." Hiko sips his sake.

"Which begs the question, why you would follow her here? A mission? A strategic alliance?"

Aoshi's face remains blank.

"Well then. Since she has not taken an oath to you, as her father, I shall see to her future and you can choose another young woman to further your plans."

Rage washes over Aoshi, his muscles tensing until it takes his full strength to remain still under the insult that he would ever use Misao for his own gains. Hiko's hand twitches softly toward the hilt of his katana. Both men feel the prickle of eyes unseen from the cottage.

"Still I would speak with Misao." Aoshi says cooly, slightly louder than necessary.

"You will have to go through me." Hiko pushes aside the sake jug, adjusting his stance. Aoshi draws his swords.

"Stop." Comes Misao's voice soft from the doorway. "I will speak with him."

"You will return her to this door within the hour." Hiko glares at the silent man, the threat clear.

For the first time in a long while Misao feels young. A wave of tenderness for her father catches her voice in her throat. She walks forward, past Aoshi and toward the woods. She sits on a fallen log, just past the tree line, in view of the cottage. Aoshi sits silently beside her.

"Your technique has improved."

Misao's lip twitches toward a smile.

"Yeah. You were out cold you know. I could have slit your throat."

"It was careless of me."

"Why are you here Aoshi?"

"To bring you home."

For a moment Misao's heart leaps at the thought. Then her face falls.

"For how long? Until a suitable husband carries me away?"

The soft rustling of animals fills the silence between them.

"Why didn't you offer me the oath? I thought it was because my father was… but he wasn't… so why?"

"It isn't something that you want Misao."

Misao's chest tightens, her fists clench, and the blood rushes to her cheeks. "What would you know of what I want."

"You don't understand what the oath would mean."

"Then tell me."

"You would have no future Misao. You would be bound to the Oniwabanshu. You would not be able to marry or have a family."

"I would have a family."

"The Oniwabanshu is fading Misao. It will not exist in this new era. It would be foolish to bind yourself to the dying."

"Foolish. I suppose I am."

The wind rustles the leaves of the trees overhead. Scattering sounds soften in the twilight.

"I would see you safe Misao."

Misao turns toward him and presses her lips gently against his. His lips are warm, warmer than she imagined. He doesn't move, doesn't breath. She pulls back.

"Misao…"

She can hear the weariness in his voice.

"It's ok Aoshi. I understand."

She stands, brushing the dirt off of her clothing.

"Since I'm not really Oniwabanshu and my father is willing to give me a home, I will stay here. You may send any suitors here if you wish and they can negotiate a marriage contract with my real father."

She turns back once to see him standing at the edge of the woods. She waits for the pain of it to strike. It should hurt, should send her screaming up the mountainside, but the pain doesn't come. Her chest is hollow and heavy, cast in lead.

…

Hiko doesn't speak when she comes back to the cabin. He had thought her the perfect copy of her mother, but his heart constricts as he sees himself in her expression. Their gazes meet across the small room. Hiko opens an arm.

Misao sits beside him, leaning in to his large chest, feeling the edge of his cloak wrap around her. His arm squeezes awkwardly around her shoulders and finally the tears come. Silent, hot tears running into his shirt.


End file.
